


Family Matters

by silverdawn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:23:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverdawn/pseuds/silverdawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sherlock." John had allowed a small tear escape. "Are you coming to meet your godson?" John and Sherlock are starting a new chapter of their story. John now has a family. Sherlock is never too far away, even when he is on a case. But Sherlock Holmes is Sherlock Holmes, trouble is always looking for him...but in this new chapter, is he the one trouble is looking for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – The one where Sherlock is lost for words

"Do you want to be the godfather?" John asked the confused man before him. And this man was none other than the world's only consultant detective, Sherlock Holmes, his best friend, his best man, and now hopefully, the godfather of his new born son.

Sherlock looked at him… well he frowned at him… try scowl at him… actually it was as though the man had completely blanked. Sherlock may be extremely clever, in fact the cleverest man John had ever known, in fact that world have ever known, but sometimes, every once in a while, the man could be a bit dim.

Oh. John smiled nervously as Sherlock opened his mouth. Was he going to agree? Did he actually…no…John sighed as the man closed his mouth again. Seriously if Sherlock was trying to look stupid he was doing a marvellous job.

"Are… you okay?" John asked slowly, the shorter man crossed his arms nervously, as though hugging his chest in hope that his friend would understand.

"You…but I… I'm not even a Christian. Are you even a Christian? How does that even work if you're not even a…"

"Sherlock!" John's shout stopped the detective's rant and a cloud of silence loomed over the pair. John took a deep breath and pointed a finger at his friend's face. Sherlock's eyes widened in amusement for a second, but then the man gave the doctor a quizzical look.

"You're getting defensive, interesting."

John growled impatiently. "Look, Sherlock, Mary is Christian and she…I… would like you, yes you not Greg or anyone else, to be the godfather of my kid."

Sherlock's mouth formed the shape of a great 'o', as though the man was trying to swallow an invisible orange. John, slowly, awkwardly patted his friend's arm as Sherlock began to sway slightly, like a drunken sailor on the tide. John slowly led Sherlock towards one of the chairs in the hospital waiting room, in which, yes, they had just had that little scene in the hospital. Only a handful of people had had the pleasure of watching the pair.

Sherlock, meanwhile, felt as though the emotional side was taking over the logical side of his brain. It felt like he was crashing, his senses were whirring in his mind like a broken radio, his thoughts scattered like dust. No. He thought viciously. Oh damn he really wanted a smoke. When did he ever decide to stop? The relief of the nicotine running through his veins was his only method of relaxation, besides going on a case. The stuff boring people did drove him insane. I mean, he thought desperately, who would watch movies just to relax? All the plots were the same and he always knew what was going to happen, so what was the point!

"Sherlock…" John's voice was hazy, as though his mind was coated with fog. His friend's words were still playing in his mind. Those two… Mary and John Watson… he mattered so much to them that they would give him the responsibility of being a godfather!

John suddenly jumped as Sherlock suddenly started fumbling through his pockets. With trembling fingers he desperately fingered the edges of his outside pockets… smokes. He thought desperate. He needed a smoke. Damn it Mrs Hudson why did he even consider…

Okay. He thought desperately, rubbing his forefingers furiously against his temples. Ignoring John's presence the detective shifted through his thoughts. He may not have his cigarettes, but the man did have a handful of people in this room whose lives he could read in a moment. He took a few calming breaths before the gears of logic began to churn.

His first subject. Male. Mid-forties. Office worker, obvious due to the marks on his wrists from leaning on the keyboard. Has three dogs, one of which had recently bit him on his thumb. Wife, obvious, ring, but it is an unhappy relationship as he takes it off regularly due to its prime condition. Overweight, again obvious anyone can see that. Broken shaver, the shaving pattern on his chin is irregular. He has kids, obvious from the Disney pencil protruding out of his pocket… unless he is having a mid-life crisis… Actually. Maybe he is.

Okay, number two. Woman sitting closest to the reception desk. She is constantly fidgeting, constantly wiping her glasses with her handkerchief, always sneezes using her handkerchief. OCD. Yes, obvious.

"Sherlock!" John's shout startled the woman he had been evaluating… she was now walking away.

"Great, thanks John…"

"You mean it?" John's anger had suddenly evaporated. Sherlock blinked rapidly, as though trying to deduce what he had just… oh.

"Um…" Sherlock sighed as he stood up, facing his friend and zoning in on the actual conversation for the first time. He had been the person who had first found out about Mary's pregnancy. And now…

"Mister Watson." A woman's voice called from the corridor just adjacent to the waiting room. John held his breath as the nurse walked up towards the pair. She was short, dark skinned, limited make-up…oh…Sherlock smirked, interesting, the woman was in a long term relationship. About to get married.

"They are waiting to see you." The nurse smiled broadly as she delivered the news. Sherlock hummed quietly to himself, of course, the woman obviously wants kids too. Why else would she be working in a maternity ward?

John, meanwhile, was struggling to hold in his tears. Sherlock, even though many may not consider him human, felt a small warmth surge within his chest. He was a godfather. He had already made up his mind the minute that John had asked him. He was just baffled. Sherlock Holmes. Baffled you say? Sentiment is the only thing that ever confuses him… but with John and Mary, he is only ever nervous, never confused. They were the two people who meant more than anything to him. He would give his lives for them. He would never admit it out loud, he shuddered, oh no. But he loved them. And he was going to see the product of their love, in just a few seconds.

"Sherlock." John had allowed a small tear escape. "Are you coming to meet your godson?" John and the nurse had already walked a few feet from the consultant detective.

Sherlock quickly hid his face from his friend as he felt a blush crept up his cheeks. For once, the great detective did not reply. For once in his life, he found that he was too stunned to reply. For once in his life, Sherlock Holmes was lost for words.

The man was about to follow them down the corridor, when a dark shadow hovered in the corner of his vision. The detective whirled round, scanning the almost vacant waiting room with eyes as narrow as slits. For a second, or was it simply his imagination? But for a second he could have sworn he had seen the outline of a man in the doorway. And if he was correct, which he always was, did this man have anything to do with him? Or more importantly John and Mary? Because if anyone ever threatened the happy couple… the happy family… a growl rumbled in Sherlock's throat… they would have to go through him first.


	2. The one where Sherlock speaks baby

Chapter 2 – The one where Sherlock speaks baby

Sherlock felt slightly giddy as he walked down the hall after John. Mixed emotions clung to his thoughts like leaches, he was anxious, happy, worried, and even a little scared, but he did not know why. His heart was beating a little faster, and his palms were coated in a thin sheet of sweat. But the detective was tense for another reason… he was now positive that he had seen a man by the doorway, or maybe a ghost, but whatever it was… it made his stomach curl. If anything happened to Mary, John or his godson, he would never be able to forgive himself.

The nurse now held the door open for the two men. John walked in first, the dam had burst and tears were falling freely down his face. Sherlock merely rolled his eyes… although his heart clenched in his chest as he looked upon the scene before him.

There. On the hospital bed sat an exhausted and dishevelled Mary, but Mrs Watson could not have looked any happier. She wore a radiant smile that made John cry even more. Even Sherlock found it difficult to hold in his tears. But the man was a professional. He would not cry. Never had. Never will. But, he would later admit that he had been so incredibly close to shedding a tear right then and there in that hospital room. John and Mary had always been his weakness. But were also his greatest strength.

"Hello hon." Mary sighed happily as John kissed her softly on the forehead. His touch was like a feather as he gently brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"How are you feeling, Mary?" John asked, concern was practically pouring out of the man in waves. At that point, Sherlock felt as though he was an outsider, intruding on a family moment, he felt as though he should have waited outside…

As though reading his thoughts, Mary glanced up at Sherlock and smiled, "Get over hear you great buffoon, stop gaping and hold your godson, my arms could use a break. You are part of this family too."

Sherlock blinked rapidly for a few seconds as though the detective was trying to figure out exactly what that phrase meant. Sherlock tried to swallow, but there was a lump lodged in his throat. He gazed down at the tiny baby in Mary's arms. His godson stared back at him. Sherlock gasped as he stared in wonder at the bright blue eyes that looked so full of life it was hard to put it into words. The baby's face was as round as a little pumpkin, his nose peeked out from under his eyes and a tuft of blonde hair sprouted from his hair like a sprinkle of hay. And then Sherlock's eyes widened in surprise as the baby reached out towards him. His little hands trembling in delight, his eyes sparkled with anticipation. Sherlock looked quizzically at John, who nodded in encouragement.

"John's shaking so much that he is worried he's going to drop him." Mary explained. Sherlock's expression relaxed.

"Go on, mate." John smiled, "I think I need a sit down. I'm still overwhelmed."

"But…" Sherlock blurted out nervously, "But what if I drop him. I'm more likely to do so than you, you're a doctor, you have steady hands."

"I'm also human." John said as he sat down on a chair by the bed. "And very emotional right now."

Mary smiled at the exchange, and as gently as possible, she slid her son onto Sherlock's outstretched arms. Her friend may have been tense during the exchange, but as soon as her son was safely into his arms, he visibly relaxed.

Sherlock's hand cupped his godson's head gently, as though he were holding one of his precious metals in the lab… although this human life was far more special. Even the great detective could deduce that. The little boy suddenly grabbed his right forefinger. Sherlock's first reaction was to shake him off. But then…Sherlock's mouth curled into a smile when the baby began to blow little bubbles from his lips. A little drool slipped down his godson's chin.

"You have obviously inherited genes from John." Sherlock smiled sheepishly, glancing at John and Mary, who were watching him quizzically, Sherlock said quietly, "I saw your daddy drawl in his sleep on multiple occasions. Many of which caused him to…."

"Sherlock, that's enough thank you." John said quickly, a bit too quickly, "I don't want one of my son's first memories to be of me…"

As if the baby was reading Sherlock's thoughts, the corner of his lip curled, ever so slightly that John and Mary never noticed. But Sherlock did.

"I know right." Sherlock said to his godson, completely ignoring John. "Although thank fully you are young and therefore it does not excuse you from…"

"Okay I'm serious, that's enough." John warned, standing up from his chair as though to take his son away from his friend.

"Sorry." Sherlock said quickly, "Actually I'm not sorry, and neither's little Sherlock, I mean, baby."

Mary suddenly burst into a fit of giggles. She smiled widely at her friend as Sherlock's cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. "That is adorable." She chuckled, "John. John we have to tell everyone that my son actually made Sherlock swoon! I'm putting that on your blog as soon as we get home."

John chuckled in response to Mary's sudden outburst. "Well…" he said hesitantly, scratching his head as though Sherlock had just reminded him of something, "We need to come up with a name first, we can't just call him baby."

Sherlock quickly glanced at John, whose brow was furrowed as though filtering through thoughts, obviously baby names. "You knew the due date months ago, how is it you are still unsure of a name?"

John smiled sheepishly, "Well, Mary…"

Mary gave him 'the look'. He immediately began to backtrack, stumbling slightly over his words, "I mean, Mary and I wanted to see him before we name him." John paused, twiddling his thumbs nervously, "We thought when we saw him for the first time, a name would spring to mind…but it evidently…"

"Hasn't." Sherlock finished. The man let out an exacerbated sigh. "John, whenever I begin a new experiment, I always label each one of my test subjects before I even acquire…"

John's frown melted into a scowl. "My son is not a test subject, don't compare him to your experiments."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "I'm not. Well technically I am, but I'm using it merely as an example to point out that…"

"Yes okay, I get, we…" John gestured to Mary and then to him, his arms shaking frantically, "Get it!"

"Darling, calm down. Sherlock didn't mean it." Mary soothed, clasping John's hand with her own.

John sighed, sitting back down on his chair. "Yeah, I know, I'm just tired that's all."

Mary snorted. Even Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "You. Tired." Mary laughed, "Try pushing a watermelon out of your…er…no nasty words in front of the baby." Mary giggled. "I need to remember that."

"He won't remember them…" John grinned at his wife, who offered him a kiss in return.

"Actually, according to the latest studies at…"

"Really?" John shook his head at his friend. "We were having a moment here Sherlock. Wait, never mind, I can't be bothered to explain."

"I know what a moment is." Sherlock said cryptically, "It's a…" The detective only had to glance at his friends' exacerbated expressions to know that they were not exactly in the mood for another explanation. He had learnt that much from studying their behaviour. The two almost shared a telepathic link with him in order to tell him to shut up, but he knew telepathy was just a figment of the creation of some absurd science fiction writer. He closed his mouth sharply, and turned his attention back to his godson, who had stopped drooling but was still staring up at him in wonder, as though he was the angel of some undiscovered lord. Sherlock couldn't help but give a response.

"Goopda malu iab boo ba lil d…" He whispered, gently rocking John and Mary's child in his arms.

John and Mary, however, were struggling to keep their laughter at bay. But every sound Sherlock uttered, was answered by a tiny nod of the head, no it wasn't a nod made by the detective, but his godson.

Sherlock nodded in satisfaction.

John meanwhile, couldn't hold in his laughter any more. "What…was…that…?" He said through fits of giggles. Mary had only just managed to keep her laughter at bay.

Sherlock scowled at the pair. "I merely asked your son if he wanted to be called something in the meantime whilst you two came up with a name. Well, the shortened version of that." John's laughter increased in volume, Mary covered her hand over her mouth to smother her cackles. Sherlock, ignoring the pair, cleared his throat. "He will be called the Little Detective."

John collapsed onto the floor. Howling with laughter, the emotions that had bottled up inside the man during the day had to be released somehow. Later, John would have shuddered from embarrassment when he would realise that the walls and door were not soundproof and the entire corridor heard something that sounded vaguely similar to a screaming cat. But right now, he couldn't care less.

Mary, however, was in control of her laughter more so than her husband. She swallowed another giggle before she asked, "And why's that?"

Sherlock could only say that John's laughter was the scariest thing he had ever seen… more so than facing Moriarty back in the day. Sherlock looked utterly perplexed for a few seconds, subconsciously gripping his godson ever so slightly tighter. Finally, after a few awkward moments, Sherlock cleared his throat. "Well, he's little and he's going to be a detective." He shrugged. "You can always call him Little D for short."

Mary's giggles had finally stopped, her eyes were still sparkling with humour, but logic also had found its way back into her system again. She grinned. "You are so full of surprises Sherlock, isn't he darling?" She signalled for John to get back on his feet. The doctor sat himself down on the chair again, occasional giggles rippled through his vocal chords. He nodded rapidly.

"Y…yes…" he replied. "We can call him that if you want, until we come up with a name."

"Soon." Sherlock prompted. "Please come up with one soon, you have to hand in the birth certificate as well, don't forget."

John's laughter had finally ceased. The doctor nodded his head, as coughing rendered him unfit to reply vocally.

"Now." Sherlock said cryptically, his thoughts flew back to the man in the doorway. He was aching to investigate. He would never let anyone harm the Little Detective. Sherlock gently slid the baby back into Mary's arms. His arms suddenly felt so much lighter.

"Wait." John said suddenly, as though he had figured out Sherlock's intentions of departure. Sherlock said nothing, he merely waited for his friend to finish his sentence. John cleared his throat. "Why a detective?"

Sherlock sighed, frustration bubbled in his stomach. "Because I'm his godfather and he'll want to do what I do. It's only natural. You should be proud of him, he made the right choice. All other jobs are useless."

"What about becoming a doctor?" John retorted, "I save lives."

Sherlock scrunched his face up in thought. "Yes, but you wouldn't need to save as many lives if your patients were not injured in the first place. It costs billions just to treat the victims of…"

"Okay. Okay." John's shoulders sagged in submission, "But I'll be proud of him no matter what."

Sherlock smirked. "He'll be a detective, John Watson, I'm never wrong." Sherlock walked a few paces towards the door, he was about to turn the handle, when he glanced back at the new family. A warm smile spread across his features. "You have an amazing son, Mr and Mrs Watson, I'll always be there for him, and I'll always be there for you."

Mary's heart practically melted in her chest. Even John looked slightly emotional from the statement. "Thanks Sherlock." Mary said gently. "And you will always be a part of this family. Never forget that."

Sherlock inclined his head.

"Yeah…" John said quickly, "Mate, family matters, and you are our family." John then pointed towards the door, a gesture meant for Sherlock, "Now leave before I start crying again. God what is wrong with me today?"

"It's okay hon, it's like this for everyone when they first start parenting." Mary said soothingly.

"But how come you're not…"

"Trust me I was."

And with that last comment, Sherlock left the couple alone to gush over their new son, and the detective quietly shut the door behind him. He swiftly turned up the collar of his coat and was about to walk down the corridor and out of the hospital… when a shadow loomed in the hallway. He blinked. The shadow disappeared. But he did not miss the fact that it was the same shadow he had seen earlier. He could only come to one conclusion. Even if the shadow was after him, John and Mary would still be in trouble. And now, so would his Little Detective.


End file.
